


He Lives in Daydreams With Me

by photographer_of_thoughts



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Childhood Friends, Crushes, Falling In Love, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Nail Polish, Soft Isak Valtersen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21879220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photographer_of_thoughts/pseuds/photographer_of_thoughts
Summary: Isak is his best friend. It's always been that way. So then why does it feel like he’s free falling off a cliff whenever Isak walks into the room? Why is Isak the only person Even dreams about?When Even turns seventeen, he figures it out.(Or, my excuse to write a childhood friends au that features Isak wearing nail polish and being the softest boy)
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 249





	He Lives in Daydreams With Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning for homophobia and homophobic slurs in this fic**
> 
> Title from the song 'She' by Harry Styles.

When Even turns eight, he knows a few things for sure. 

Firstly, his best friend is named Isak. They’re neighbours and just happen to be in the same second grade class and ride bikes together after school. Isak is really funny, really loud and absolutely owns Even’s heart. 

Secondly, Even’s father is gone more than he’s ever been before. He spends long nights in a building where he goes to make money and sometimes doesn’t come home at all. He shouts when he is home, and Even doesn’t try to hug him anymore. His mother makes dinner for just two and barely even blinks when another night passes without her husband. 

Thirdly, when Even’s father  _ is  _ home and sees Even together with his best friend, his face gets even more shadowed. He frowns at Isak like he wants him to leave, and as much as he doesn’t know  _ why,  _ Even understands that there’s something about Isak that his father doesn’t like. 

He wishes he knew what was wrong, but he tries not to think about it too much. They usually spend their time at Isak’s house anyway, running around in his basement when the weather turns cold; imagining they’re flying airplanes or fighting as gladiators in Ancient Rome. 

When Even turns ten, he hears his father use the word for the first time. He says, “Isak is such a fag. I don’t want you to hang around him anymore.” And Even considers his statement for all of three seconds before he realizes he doesn’t know what it means at all. 

“What? Isak’s a  _ what _ ?” 

“He’s just not the kind of kid you want to hang around with. Make some other friends.” His father snaps, waving a hand in front of his face to dismiss his son. 

Even goes to sleep that night wondering how Isak wouldn’t be the kind of friend he needed. Isak was liked by everyone. When he had his birthday parties in June, it seemed like half their school showed up for them; showering him in gifts as Isak ate his cake. He always made sure Even sat beside him, always laughed the hardest with him because they were best friends. 

“Is Isak a good person to have as a friend?” He asks his mother later, too hung up on what his father said to eat properly. 

“Of course. Why are you asking?” 

“Nevermind.” 

He decides that unless Isak is actually mean to him or does something like talk about him to other people behind his back, he’s going to stay friends with him. Maybe his father was thinking of someone else. 

When Even turns eleven, he opens the door to meet Isak so they can walk to school and is immediately drawn to the bright pink nail polish on his best friend’s fingers; glittering in the morning sunshine as he holds the straps of his backpack. 

“Ready to go?” Isak asks with a grin, oblivious to Even’s confusion. 

“Uh.” 

“Don’t forget your lunch money.” Even’s father says from the kitchen, footsteps approaching down the hallway like a ticking time bomb. Before Even can explain why, he pushes Isak out the door and tells him to wait another minute. 

His father hands him his money and grunts as a goodbye. Even practically sprints out the door, pulling Isak with him until they’re out of sight of his house. 

“What the heck, Even?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“You’re acting so strange.” His friend sighs, but Even can tell he’s teasing. Isak is always teasing him, always cheerful. 

The truth is, Even doesn’t know why he freaked at the sight of his friend wearing nail polish. It definitely doesn’t bother him. But he knew right away that his father would have hated it, would have made a fuss. He might have even  _ yelled  _ at Isak, and thinking of that was too much to bear. Isak doesn’t deserve to be yelled at. 

Even thought back to the word his father had used to describe Isak. He’s used it other times, too. Did it mean a boy who wore nail polish? But it couldn’t mean that because his father has never seen Isak wear nail polish, considering this is the first time Even has seen him wear it. 

No other boys wore nail polish at their school, but Isak wasn’t like other boys. He’d always been different in the sense that he was less likely to be interested in things because everyone else was. 

“I like your nails.” Even decides to say, reaching for the other boy’s hand and admiring the work. “Did your sister help you?” 

Isak’s smile in that moment was bright enough to power cities. “Yeah. Leah bought this shade at the mall on the weekend and said we could try it together. She’s teaching me how to do it properly.” 

“Cool.” 

And the day goes on. Even doesn’t think too hard about why Isak paints his nails, nor does he care when Isak begins wearing it all the time - changing the colour each week. It just becomes part of Isak’s outfits, part of the way he dresses. 

When Even turns thirteen, his father moves out the day Even kisses a girl for the first time. He’s running home, wanting to tell Isak what happened since he’s been gone from school sick for two days. He’s so excited, so overjoyed that he almost misses the sight of his father carrying out two boxes and shoving them into the car. 

Even stands between his house and Isak’s, torn about whether to go to his father or his best friend. He wants to tell Isak, but he also wants to know why his father is packing. 

He goes to his father. 

“Hold this for me.” His father demands, putting a box full of what feels like bricks into Even’s arms. He drops it immediately, the contents spilling in the front hall of the house. 

“Jesus, Even. Can’t even hold a damn box?” 

“S-sorry.” Even mumbles, kneeling down to pick up some of the things that dropped. He starts putting them back into the crumpled box but his father tells him to leave it alone. 

“I’m moving out. I’m getting a new apartment and you can come and see me soon, okay?” 

Even nods, but he doesn’t understand. Why does his father need his own apartment? He’s wringing his hands together as he watches his father make a new box, a lot of questions stuck in his throat. 

“Is that fucking  _ nail polish  _ on your hands?” 

The sound of his dad’s voice is absolutely lethal and it makes Even shrink away, back himself against the wall as his father advances on him. He tries to explain, tries to say that it was Naomi - the girl he’d kissed - who coloured his nails during History class with her highlighter; the flirty curve of her lips too much for him to say no. 

But his father doesn’t hear a word. 

“This is all that little faggot’s fault! Do you know who wears nail polish, Even? Sissies. I told you not to hang around that loser but you never listen to me. What’s next? You going to start wearing pink button ups and pierce your ears? Start wearing pearl fucking earrings like that little cocksucker?” 

His father keeps shouting, keeps telling Even what a freak he’s turning out to be and how he’s glad he’s leaving this house. Even can’t do anything but stand there and tremble until his father has slammed the door behind him; car soaring down the street. 

Even doesn’t know why he’s crying so hard. He isn’t sure what has him the most upset. His father leaving or his horrible insults, the way he spoke about his best friend. It shouldn't be the latter because his father speaking about Isak that way isn’t anything new. 

He still doesn’t understand why, though; why it matters  _ so much _ that Isak is different. 

The thing is, Even isn’t naive. He understands now that most boys don’t dress like Isak. A lot of students have sniggered at him as they entered middle school, called him ‘gay’ and Isak often gets strange looks from older people when they’re out together. 

Even knows Isak’s style is somewhat controversial. But he doesn’t fucking care. He’s  _ never  _ cared, despite his father’s constant ramblings about how boys should dress. Despite several of his friends asking if Isak is gay, if they’re a  _ thing.  _

Even has never been tempted to end their friendship. He thought he might want to, that he’d be embarrassed of Isak the way his father expected him to be. Why would he be friends with someone who spent so much time trying to stand out? But Even didn’t think Isak did it for attention. He wasn’t thinking about other people. He was just being himself. 

Isak is…

He’s so  _ wonderful,  _ is the thing. He’s kind and beautiful and Even decides in that moment that nobody is ever going to speak that way about his friend again. He will spend every second screaming at the top of his lungs if it drowns out whatever criticism is being said about his favourite person in the world. 

He walks to Isak’s house, finds him asleep on the couch with a movie playing at a low volume. He sits down next to him and rubs his side until Isak groggily moves over, the two of them ending up practically lying on each other; arms wrapped around their middles. 

“You look sad.” Isak comments, and it makes Even chuckle. 

“Your eyes aren’t even  _ open,  _ Issy.” 

Isak hugs him closer, kissing his forehead. “I know when you’re sad. You’re my best friend.” 

“My dad left today. Moved out. And...I hope he never comes back.” 

Isak doesn’t say anything for a long moment and Even thinks he might have fallen asleep again. But then he says, “I hope he doesn’t hurt you anymore, that’s all.” And Even hugs him tight, too tight. But he can’t let go, can’t stop the tears that fall down his cheeks. 

He tells Isak about Naomi, and they play some video games and Even ends up sick with the same flu two days later. But he doesn’t mind. 

When Even turns sixteen, Isak starts dating his first girlfriend. Marta is a petite, red-haired girl that makes Isak cackle with laughter and get all flustered about what he’s going to wear on their first real date. He’s going through his entire closet the evening of the date, asking Even what looks the best and pouts when Even keeps saying everything looks nice on him. 

It’s kind of the truth, though. Isak’s whole closet is full of bright clothes, knitted pastel sweaters and high-waisted women’s jeans that do wonderful things for his ass. He has tons of short-trimmed blazers in various dark reds and blues, shoes with slight heels on them with gold around the toes. He should honestly start modeling, and Marta should be happy with whatever he puts on his body. 

“I want to make a good impression.” Isak sighs, throwing himself down on the bed that is covered in clothes. 

“You will. But that will be more about what you do rather than what you wear.” 

“Ugh, shut up. You’re making me nervous!” 

“You don’t need to be nervous, Is. You’ll be fine.” 

“You’re biased.” 

Even shakes his head, smiling. “I’m not your mother. I don’t think you’re  _ that  _ awesome.” 

Isak looks at him and winks. “Yes, you do.” 

And Even suddenly feels self-conscious because it’s definitely the truth. Isak  _ is _ awesome, has  _ always  _ been awesome to Even. But over the past year or so, something has shifted in Even’s mind when it comes to Isak. When he thinks of Isak now there’s a heaviness to the idea of his friend, a pressure inside his body that he can’t quite locate. It makes him feel heavy, pinned down - and it’s really,  _ really  _ annoying. 

Thinking of Isak as his friend used to be easy. Weightless _.  _ It all made sense. But nothing makes sense anymore. 

Isak doesn’t know that Even feels different about their friendship. He doesn’t act like it, anyway. And if he did notice something, if he were to ask Even ‘what’s wrong with us?’, Even wouldn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t have the words. 

He just  _ feels  _ different, and the lack of perception on his own part is driving him absolutely mad. 

Isak settles for wearing high-waisted black jeans, a bright red button up blouse that Even is quite sure is from the women’s side of the store, and his sparkly black boots. His nails are blue this week and he throws a string of pearls around his neck to finish off the look. 

“Is it all right?” He asks Even, staring at himself in the mirror. 

Even’s throat is dry as the Sahara when he says, “Yeah. It’s perfect.” 

Even wonders if maybe he’s reaching a point where he’s uncomfortable with how Isak dresses. They’re in high school now. There’s even more people who like to poke fun at how ‘feminine’ Isak is, how he stands out in a room full of boys their age. Isak got shoved into a locker last week and was left with a giant bruise on his bicep, enraging Even so much he had to walk back to his house when Isak had showed him. If he stared at Isak’s arm for any longer he felt like he was going to explode. 

He wonders if he’s sick of defending Isak, if it would be nice to be friends with more people who were ‘normal.’ But when he thinks that way, when he takes into consideration how a lot of people think of Isak as not normal, he  _ cringes.  _

Isak is still wonderful and he should be able to dress however the fuck he wants to. This isn’t the 1800’s. It’s the twenty-first century and if someone has a problem with his best friend’s style, they can fuck right off. 

So, he doesn’t have a problem with Isak. Nothing about Isak makes Even upset, honestly. He’s still kind to everyone despite the bullying. He’s begun playing the guitar and is quite good at it. He comes to Even’s basketball games and cheers for him. He visits his grandmother in her nursing home and stays to talk with all the ladies who live on her floor, even when they forget who he is and why he’s there. 

Isak is his best friend and he’s  _ proud _ that Isak is his friend. 

So then why does it feel like he’s free falling off a cliff whenever Isak walks into the room; whenever they’re hanging out in one of their bedrooms listening to music and eating pizza? Why is Isak the only person Even dreams about? 

When Even turns seventeen, he figures it out. 

He’s walking down the school hallway with Isak and it’s just a normal night. He had a basketball game that ended half an hour ago and as usual Isak came to watch him play. He waited around afterward for Even to shower and now they’re about to walk home, the school mostly empty. 

And as Isak laughs about something, throws his head back and Even sees the soft pink lipstick staining his lips, he leans in and kisses his best friend. Kissing Isak is easy, it’s weightless and it suddenly all makes sense. 

Except when Isak pulls away and looks at Even like he just slapped him instead of kissed him. 

“We can’t.” 

Even’s stomach drops. “Oh. I’m...sorry. I’m sorry.” 

Isak stares at him, stares at his lips in a lingering way and for a brief second Even thinks they’re going to kiss again. He feels the familiar pull to Isak, that ache inside him that he can suddenly almost touch, and he licks his lips; feels arousal coil in his lower stomach. 

But then Isak walks out the door and the moment ends. 

When Even is seventeen he realizes that he’s hopelessly in love with his best friend. And his best friend probably doesn’t feel the same. 

“Uh, hi Isak. Just me. I wanted to know if you were coming tonight for the game. Maybe we could grab kebabs after. Just call me back. Bye.” He hangs up the phone a week later, sighing because he knows he sounds stupid. 

But it’s been so fucking awkward since their kiss. Isak has been avoiding him. He’s turned down Even’s invitations to meet in the library for lunch. They haven’t hung out after school, something they’ve done practically every week of their lives since Isak moved in next to him when they were four. 

Even hates that it’s come to this, that he might have ruined their friendship with his stupid,  _ stupid  _ crush. He wants to take it back, keep his hands and mouth to himself that night and never let Isak know that he likes him that way. 

But he also keeps thinking about what Isak said. 

_ We can’t.  _

What did that mean? They couldn’t kiss? They couldn’t be together? They couldn’t acknowledge an attraction they might both have? 

The longer Even thinks about it, the more he convinces himself that Isak doesn’t like him back. How could he? Even doesn’t have much to offer. He isn’t as funny as Isak. He isn’t good at anything except sports and the odd drawing. He doesn’t have a job so couldn’t pay to take anyone out on dates, much less somewhere nice like Isak deserves. 

Even’s on his way to the gym, the game about to start, when he’s suddenly pulled into an empty classroom - almost losing his balance as the door slams shut behind him. 

Isak is staring at him with wide, shocked eyes when Even manages to see who grabbed him. “Hey. Sorry if I scared you.” 

“It’s all good. You okay? Why’d you pull me in here?” 

Isak rolls his eyes as he sits down on a desk, looking annoyed. Even internally cringes because he wants this to feel normal again. He doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of Isak’s pissed off glances. 

“I wanted to talk. About the other day.” 

“What day?” 

“Don’t play dumb.” 

Even hesitates, sitting on the desk across from Isak. He should be in the gym by now. His coach is probably wondering where the fuck he is, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“Okay. I kissed you. Clearly, you didn’t want me to and that’s  _ fine,  _ Isak. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? I’m sorry.” 

“I never said that.”

Even frowns, confused. “Said what?” 

“That I didn’t want you to.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

If Isak thinks this explains things, he’s horribly wrong. Even is more confused than he’s been all week and that must show in his face because suddenly Isak is standing up and walking over to him. He puts his hands over Even’s - nails a glittery peach colour this week - looking up at him. 

“You’re my best friend. And I...don’t want to lose that. If we were to be together and break up, I’d lose you. I don’t want that.” 

“Me either.” Even agrees easily, biting down on his lip when Isak links their fingers together. They’re holding hands and it’s somehow everything Even has ever wanted - to be holding hands with Isak as he stares up at him like he’s hung the moon. 

“We’ve never even talked about this. About liking boys. Do you like guys, then?” Isak asks, looking baffled and just as lost as Even feels. 

“I like... _ you.  _ And that’s all I know. I haven’t really thought about it.” 

Even has kissed girls. He’s gotten a hand job and a blow job from his one girlfriend he dated for five months last year. It was nice and she was great. But he hadn’t really connected with her, hadn’t wanted it to last. When she broke up with him, he wasn’t heartbroken. Even hasn’t ever thought he might like boys more because there’s no-one who has caught his eye, no-one he looked at and thought  _ I’d like to kiss you.  _ Except Isak. 

He has a feeling that’s more about being in love with Isak than a sexuality crisis. 

“I like you, too. I  _ do,  _ but it’s complicated. We can’t just…” Isak trails off, looking regretful as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“I know. I get it.” 

“Right.” Isak nods, glancing behind Even’s head at the clock. “Shit. You’re late. Sorry, I’ll let you go.” 

Logically Even knows that Isak means he’s letting him go so he can play a basketball game, but the words feel like they hold a lot more significance. Even looks at Isak for another long second before he pulls his hands away, straightening up. 

“Are you going to come watch?” 

“Not today. I need to finish an assignment.” 

It’s Even’s turn to roll his eyes. “You mean you need to avoid me because this is really awkward now?” 

“ _ No _ . It’s not awkward. I seriously have to finish something.” Isak protests, leveling Even with a genuine stare. 

“Okay. But, can we  _ please  _ not be weird? I don’t want to feel weird when I’m with you.” 

“I promise. No weirdness.” Isak winks, hugging Even briefly before heading home. Even gets in trouble for being late, for missing practically the first half of the game, and when he finally gets out onto the court he plays like absolute shit. 

**

It’s another week before things feel okay again. Gradually, they hang out after school. They sit together at lunch. And Even forces himself to swallow down his feelings. He dreams about Isak at night, waking up hard and sticky and practically  _ shaking.  _ But he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t let himself touch. 

Isak doesn’t want them to be together, and it makes sense. Why ruin a friendship that’s lasted thirteen years over a potential romance? 

Makes total sense. 

And yet, as the weeks go on, Even feels worse and worse about saying no; about agreeing to ignore how he feels when he looks at his best friend. He can’t help imagining how great it would be, how he already knows Isak like the back of his hand; how he would cherish him even more as a boyfriend. 

“Are you going to eat that?” Isak asks him on a Friday, pointing to the donut Even had picked up with his mac and cheese. 

“No. You can have it.” 

Isak smiles at him and reaches for it. “Thanks. Do you want to see a movie tomorrow? I have some free entrance passes I got from my sister.” 

Even sighs loudly, wanting more than anything to go. “I can’t. I have to see my dad.” 

Even visits his father every two months, stays over at his apartment downtown for a weekend and hates every second of it. His father doesn’t have time to really know his son, to talk about what he’s doing in school or what his plans are when he graduates soon. Mostly, Even sits in the apartment while his father works. 

“Why do you still go see him?” 

“Because I’m not eighteen yet and my parents have an arrangement. I kind of have to go, legally.” 

Isak licks the icing of the donut off his black polished fingers and Even squirms in his seat. “That’s really stupid. It’s not like he does anything with you, right?” 

“Nope. It’s boring as hell.” 

“I could come over with you. Make it more fun.” 

Even quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Would you want me to?” 

_ Yes,  _ Even immediately wants to say. But he also knows his father’s long history of hating Isak just from barely laying eyes on him. He doesn’t know if it’s worth it to have Isak over just so his dad can make a fuss. 

“Your dad doesn’t scare me, Ev.” Isak whispers, like he can read minds, and he raises his eyebrows cheekily. 

The confidence Isak shows is enough to convince Even to invite him over, both of them catching the tram in the opposite direction of their houses after school. Isak clings to the pole in the middle of the tram with both hands, laughing loudly about something; his gold hoop earrings shining in the afternoon light. 

Even has an insane urge to put one of them in his mouth and pull, see what kind of noises it might get the other boy to make. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Isak chuckles, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind Even’s ear. It makes him hot all over and he knows he’s blushing like a fool, but he can’t help it. 

“No. I was distracted, sorry.” 

Isak licks his lips, leaning closer. “What has you all distracted, then?” 

Even whimpers because he’s so incredibly done holding himself back. He mumbles ‘fuck it’ before pushing Isak against the door of the tram; pinning him in with his hips. He ducks down before Isak can do much of anything and starts sucking a bruise into the pale, exposed line of his neck. 

His head is dazed, his hands are clutching onto Isak’s small hips, and he can’t help how he grinds himself into his friend’s space; hoping against hope that Isak won’t shove him off. He’s expecting it, honestly surprised he hasn’t been slapped - but then he feels Isak reach up and tug him closer by the width of his shoulders. Isak pulls him harder against his chest, groaning quietly as Even licks the deep purple bruise his teeth left behind. 

Even knows they’re in public, that if he saw a couple doing what he’s currently doing to Isak, he would probably make a face. But he can’t bring himself to back off, to let them have room to breathe. 

“Even. We have to stop.” Isak whispers, but he isn’t trying to make Even stop. Not really. 

“Kiss me.  _ Please,  _ Issy. I need you to kiss me.” 

Isak leans in, cupping Even’s face with his hand and they’re almost kissing - but then the tram door opens and they nearly fall right back into the road. Isak catches Even before that can happen, both of them laughing as they realize it’s the stop they need anyway. 

They watch the tram pull away, standing next to each other; both seemingly unsure of what happens now. Even knows he’s only two blocks away from his father’s apartment, but it’s the last place he wants to go. 

He wants to take Isak back to their neighbour, back to the place he fell in love. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Isak suddenly asks, looking up at Even with a blush painting his cheeks. And he’s so beautiful it makes Even want to cry. 

“Yeah. Of course. Please.” Even nods, reaching for his friend’s hand and linking their fingers together. He loves how their hands intertwine, how big and slender Isak’s fingers are; nails manicured immaculately. 

“I always catch you staring at my hands. Ever since I started wearing nail polish.” Isak says, smiling. They’re walking in the direction of Even’s father’s apartment, and it’s not where he wants to go but at least he’s getting to hold Isak’s hand. 

“I, ugh.” Even stammers, looking away from their hands. “Sorry?” 

“You don’t have to be sorry, weirdo. Do you...like my nails? That I paint them?” 

Isak sounds insecure and that’s definitely not going to stand with Even. “I’ve always liked that you painted them despite what people said. I like that you know your style, know how you want to dress. I like your confidence - always envied it, really.” 

Isak hums, looking pleased by this answer, and grips Even’s hand a bit tighter. It’s barely another minute before they’re standing in front of the apartment building and they both stop; staring up at the five floor walk-up. 

“I wish we could go back to your house.” Isak whispers, leaning his body into Even’s in a way that makes him shiver. Even wants to ask about a kiss again, wanting it more than anything, but he figures they’ve had quite enough PDA for the day. 

“I know. He probably won’t be home until six, anyway. We’ll have some time alone.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Even winks, unconsciously staring at Isak’s lips as he licks his own. 

“And what should we do with this alone time, Mr. Bech Naesheim?” 

“Anything you want, Issy. Anything.” 

Even’s heart is hammering in his ears. He hasn’t forgotten that not very long ago Isak told him they couldn’t do this, couldn’t be together.  _ We can’t. We can’t.  _ But he also sees the way Isak is staring at him - has thought that maybe Isak feels the same, and he’s more than willing to jump headfirst into this if Isak will say yes. 

Isak pulls him towards the building, a shy smile playing on his features as he watches Even open the door with the key he was given years ago - on the first day he visited his father after he’d moved out. They make it inside and walk up the stairs to the second floor, Even leading the way to the end of the hallway at apartment 209. 

When Even gets inside his father’s apartment, he’s about to ask if Isak wants a drink or something to eat, but he’s suddenly being shoved against the closed door. Isak’s pinning him down this time, eyelids heavy and breath coming fast; looking like he wants to eat Even alive.

“Can I kiss you?” 

They say it at the same time and then they’re both laughing, both blushing - both moving to meet in the middle. And finally,  _ finally,  _ Even is kissing his best friend, the person he loves most. Isak’s kissing him back, whimpering into it as Even slides his tongue inside; hands making their way to grip Even’s ass. 

It’s the best kiss Even’s ever had. 

**

“I’m still scared.” Isak tells him an hour later. They’re sitting on the floor for some reason, eating cheese toasties. The sun is pouring in through the living room window and Even can’t help the way he keeps staring, smiling to himself. 

“That being together might lead to us breaking up and then we won’t be friends anymore?” 

Isak sighs, putting his sandwich down. “You sound patronizing.” 

“I don’t mean to, Is. I swear. I’m just trying to understand what you mean.” Even is quick to say, eyes widening at how insecure Isak looks. He shuffles closer, putting his hand on his friend’s knee.  _ Boyfriend’s (?)  _ knee. 

“You’re important to me. I...I kind of love you, and the thought of not having you in my life is fucking terrifying and -” 

“Hold up.” Even interrupts, his hand in the air. “Did you just confess your love to me? Where are my roses? Is there going to be birdsong? A violin? Where’s the  _ romance  _ Isak Valtersen?” 

He desperately wants to make Isak smile and not feel patronized again. He wants to be lighthearted and jump for fucking joy because the boy he loves just said he loves him back. 

It takes all of a second for Isak to burst out laughing, beaming at him bashfully. 

“No roses or violins, sorry. Just me saying that I love you. And it scares me, but...the idea of never trying scares me more.” 

Even presses their lips together again before either of them can say another word, relishing the way Isak melts against him; soft lips colliding with his own. 

“I love you, too. For the record.” 

“Yeah?” Isak whispers, and Even doesn’t miss the hope in his tone. 

“Yeah. Have for a long time. Probably since we were four. Since always.” 

It’s a wonderful, amazing,  _ perfect  _ moment that Even wants to cherish. But that plan goes all to hell when he hears the door unlock, his father coming around the corner in the next moment and freezing with his keys in his hand when he sees the two boys. 

Even hasn’t moved away from Isak and the way they’re sitting isn’t exactly subtle - not like either of them really wants to be subtle after everything they just said. Even holds his breath as he turns to properly look at his father. 

“Hi, dad. How was work?” 

“Jesus christ, really?” 

Even feels how his chest tightens, but he isn’t surprised at his father’s reaction. He turns away, leaning in to kiss Isak’s cheek before grabbing their plates off the floor and heading into the kitchen. His father follows him. 

“You didn’t ask me if you could bring someone over, Even. Tell him to leave.” 

Even places the dishes in the sink and turns to stare at the angry man in front of him. His father’s neck is bulging out of his shirt. He needs a haircut and a shave and Even realizes in that moment that he owes this man absolutely nothing. 

“I want to spend time with my boyfriend. It’s not like you’re ever here when I visit.” 

The way his father’s eyes widen is comical enough to make Even want to laugh but he holds back and settles for a smirk instead. “Excuse me?” 

“I said it’s not like you’re ever here when I visit so I wanted some company. And Isak’s the best company there is.” Even repeats, slowly this time like he’s speaking to a three year old. 

“Did you just call that freak your  _ boyfriend?”  _

Even squares his shoulders. “Don’t call him names. You’ve been doing that long enough and it’s fucking old, dad.” 

“He is a freak! He’s been a freak since you were both little!” 

“You don’t know him. You don’t know anything, actually. And I’m not standing here and explaining it all to you, so we’re leaving.” 

Even marches back into the living room and sees Isak on his feet, gathering his things from the floor. Even reaches for him and steers them both towards the front door, getting his shoes on. 

“Even, stop being a fucking dramatic baby. Jesus Christ, I didn’t raise you this way!” 

Even chooses to ignore him. He opens the door and lets Isak out first, following behind him and closing the door in his dad’s face. The older man doesn’t attempt to follow them and they walk quietly back down to the tram stop. 

Isak holds his hand the whole way and tells him that he’s proud of him. Even can admit he feels shitty about the kind of person he has for a father, but Isak is too wonderful and too kissable and those facts overpower the want to dwell. 

“I’m going to kiss you.” He announces playfully, nudging the side of Isak’s face with his nose as he waits for an answer. 

“I mean, that’s perfectly acceptable behaviour for my boyfriend. I’m fine with this.” 

Even instantly loves the way Isak says the word boyfriend. And he loves that he gets to be someone’s boyfriend. He gets to be  _ Isak’s  _ boyfriend and he kind of wants to pinch himself. 

He kisses his boyfriend instead. 

**

When Even turns eighteen, he knows a few things for sure. 

He knows his father hasn’t spoken to him in months, and it hurts but it’s okay. He knows that he’s proud of the fact that he graduated and got into an art program, that he allowed himself to recognize his own talents in drawing. He knows he’s going to be living with Isak in their own apartment near their university and he’s excited as hell about it. 

He knows he loves Isak. He knows that sometimes it’s hard because there are still people who stare, still people who call Isak names. There are always going to be people who don’t understand, who only see things in black and white. And that hurts too, but he doesn’t let himself be surprised anymore. He ignores them or smiles back into their frowns and he knows either way that he wins. 

He knows that Isak loves him too, that he finds so many little things in life to be pleased about; things that make Even melt - things he wouldn’t have noticed without the other boy. He’s a thousand percent okay with the fact that this boy has owned his heart since they were kids. 

And when he climbs into bed with his boyfriend every night, no matter how the day went, he knows that they’ll be all right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/feedback welcome and appreciated :)


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